“I want you gone today.” William slapped the sealed parchment he’d written for Beaufort into Edmund’s hand. “You’ll find Beaufort attending Christmas court at Eltham.”
“I hope we can part as friends,” Edmund said.
“Mind what you say about my wife in the future, or I’ll see that Beaufort dismisses you,” William said. “If I don’t kill you first.”
The business with Edmund left him in a sour mood. It was followed by a miserable night alone in his bedchamber. With only the solar between them, Catherine seemed as far away as when she was held at Harlech Castle.
He was still in a foul mood when he arrived at Monmouth the next morning.
Chapter Thirty
Catherine was relieved that Edmund was gone—and she felt guilty at the same time. Perhaps she was too hard on William. The wound from what he said to her on the way home from Beaumaris was still raw. That he dismissed her judgment regarding Edmund only added salt to the wound. He gave in to keep the peace with her, not because he trusted her opinion.
What was keeping Jamie? Jacob took him to see a litter of new kittens in the stable, but they should have been back by now. It was almost time for supper.
She paused in her sewing and cocked her head. What was that noise? She heard a crash and a bloodcurdling scream, followed by more screams and shouts. She sprang to her feet. Before she reached the door, it opened.
Edmund filled the doorway. Panic closed her throat. She backed up slowly. With the door open, the shouts and clatter coming from below were louder.
Edmund closed the door and leaned against it. “Thought you were rid of me, did you?” he said with a wide smile.
Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, making her feel light-headed.
Edmund went to the table and poured wine from his flask into an empty cup he found there.
“Come, Catherine, drink to my success,” he said, waving her toward one of the two chairs.
When she took the seat he indicated, he pushed the cup toward her and raised his flask. She touched the cup to her lips as he took a long pull from the flask.
She forced herself to take several slow, deep breaths before speaking. “May I ask what we are celebrating?”
She did not know what his game was, but she must play along to give herself time to think.
“I’ve taken the castle.”
She couldn’t help gasping, though she had guessed as much.
“As soon as my men finish locking up the servants, they’ll carry one of your barrels of ale to the hall,” Edmund said. “But I wanted to have a private celebration with you.”
It did not reassure her that the noise below had died down. She prayed God Jacob had found somewhere to hide with Jamie.
“I thought you were on your way to see Thomas Beaufort.”
“I paid a visit to Lord Grey instead,” Edmund said, and winked at her. “That old fox has wanted a piece of these lands since the day he was born. He was happy to pay for the rabble downstairs.”
She could well believe it of Grey. At dawn tomorrow, Grey would attempt to take as much of their lands as he dared.
“How did you take the castle?” She needed time, and she was counting on his vanity.
“Since the men know me as William’s right-hand man, they opened the gate to me. I slit a throat or two, and in no time we had most of the guard chained in the gatehouse.”
“You cannot think the king will let you keep Ross Castle,” Catherine said.
“Nay, but neither will he give it back to William,” Edmund said, his voice full of bitter anger. “You think he will be in the king’s favor after losing his castle within six months? Ha!”
William would be lucky not to be drawn and quartered.
“Besides losing his castle, William will have lost his wife—not once, but twice!” Edmund gave a harsh laugh and slapped the table. “The king will have no respect for him after this. No one will.”
